


A Mother's Reason

by GoofyGoldenGirl



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Thor (Comics)
Genre: Family, Gen, Implied grief, Mother-Son Relationship, thor 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-06
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-20 03:29:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2413331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoofyGoldenGirl/pseuds/GoofyGoldenGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Takes place during the events of Thor 1 (The new Thor comic run)</p>
    </blockquote>





	A Mother's Reason

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during the events of Thor 1 (The new Thor comic run)

The god of thunder began to walk away from the crowd. His legs, having spent so much time kneeling on the ground, began to give out. He stumbled. Freyja ran to him, and grabbed his arm to support him. She wove her hand around his waist and began to lead him, shielding him from the other's stares. His expression, before distraught had now become blank, his cheeks pale. He shivered.

"Are you cold?" She asked him.

He did not answer.

Once they were back on Asgard, Freyja took Thor to his chambers. She ordered the servants to draw a hot bath and to cook a nourishing meal for him. When he appeared in the dining hall some hours later he did not greet her, nor did he look her in the eye. 

"I thought it would be best to start off with some broth," she gestured towards the bowls on the table. "It eases your stomach."

He made no move to touch the bowl in front of him. He fiddled with his spoon. Freyja watched him as she ate.

"Do you want ale?"

He shook his head. His knuckles brushed at the stubble on his cheeks.

"Your father is going to retrieve your old axe from the hall," she tried her best to make conversation. "It has been long since you have wielded it."

Thor nodded. It was if all the talking he did on the moon with her and Odin had exhausted his voice. 

"Now what did you call it? I remembered it had a name."

Thor still did not answer her.

"Have some soup darling," she said.

He skimmed some of the soup onto his spoon. He lifted it to his mouth and ate.

"It is good isn't it?" She asked, her voice bright and cheery. It reminded her of long ago when Thor was just an infant; how fussy of an eater he was and how she would have to encourage him to eat foods that he did not like.

"There is more food coming," she told him. "The cooks butchered a lamb just for you. Lamb is your favorite. And also there--"

A hoarse sound came from Thor's throat. He dropped his spoon and hunched over. His hand knocked over his bowl of soup as he began to sob.

"Oh darling," She got up and ran over to him. She motioned to the nearby servant to attend to the mess. She led him out again and back to his chambers. And once again he sunk to the ground. Freyja's arms were around him and she pulled him close so that his head lay on her shoulder. Her hands stroked his back and ran through his long blond hair. His arms were around her just as tightly, his tears fell onto her shoulder, and he cried until he could not make a sound.

When he lifted his head, Freyja saw not the face of the man he had become, but of the small child from long ago. It was dark out and she noted to herself that Thor had not slept in days. And like she did many times when that child had awoken from a terrible dream she gently took his hand and led him to the bed. She helped him in, putting the covers over him, smoothing his hair away from his face. Her hand once more was in his'.

"You're alright child," her voice was soothing.

"Stay?" Thor managed to ask her.

"As long as you want me to," she gave Thor's hand a squeeze. She stayed until he fell asleep and left him with a kiss on the forehead.

Odin was waiting for her outside.

"You spoil him too much," he spat.

"Look at him Odin! He is not well! Never in my life have I seen him this way. This is not a normal sadness."

"You treat him like a child! He is a grown man and a warrior and I shall not have him further disgraced!"

"Thor is _my_ child!" She exclaimed. "And what a child needs is his _mother._ Someone to guide and support him! And what have you done? Are you even trying to help him with all that yelling and demands? I would have expected better from a father!

She stormed off.  
************************************************  
Thor began to recover but was not the same. Once lively and carefree, he withdrew from those close to him. He ate only once a day, did not change clothes unless told. He slept little, and some nights Freyja could hear frantic shouts from his chambers. He buried himself in training, throwing around his axe in the courtyard at targets that were lined up. One humanoid wooden target in particular became the focus of Thor's workout. He swung, digging the axe into the wood as if he were cutting into flesh, sliding across the head part as if he were an executioner and violently severing the limbs. He kicked the target, punched it, and screamed at it as the axe came down again and again. His hands bruised and bleed with every hit. The target was shattered into tiny bits but it wasn't enough. Thor began to throw the pieces of wood at the nearby wall.

"I'll kill you!" He screamed.

He aimed his axe at the wall. The bricks began to fall.

"I'll kill you!" His axe swung again and the wall split in half. Thor then brought it down on the last whole piece of wood.

"I'll kill you!" A corner of the wood shot up into the air and cut his cheek.

He dropped his axe and tried to tear the remaining block apart with his hands.

"I'll kill you! I'll _kill you!_ "

He could not break it. Thor threw the wood down to the ground and clutched at his hair.

"I'll kill you," his voice had a desperate tone. His eyes were wild and he howled like an animal. 

Freyja, watched him from the garden entrance. She wanted to run to him and hold him, but Odin had made it clear that she not interfere with Thor's training. Thor was quick to anger, but never in his long existence had he lost control like this. 

"I'll kill you," Thor trembled in a sorrowful whisper. He let go of his hair, pulling out a few strands of thin blond hair. He hung his head and pulled his knees to his chest. He was silent. 

It was not the first time that this incident had happened. And she knew that if something wasn't done, it would turn out far worse. 

"Have you seen the way he dismembers those targets?" Freyja pointed out at the piles of broken wood and shredded fabric and wool outside the window.

"He has regained his strength," Odin remarked.

"His blood boils with rage," she said.

"Every man's blood boils," Odin said harshly.

"Not every man comes home covered in blood and bruises just from training with a target. Not every man slices at targets like a brutal murderer and wrestles with them like a wild beast. Thor has gone through hundreds of those and the way he attacks each one is all the same."

"He needs to regain his worth."

"He needs _help_ ," she said in a low voice.

"His anger will subside," Odin continued. "All he needs is a good fight. And all the better if he wants to wield his hammer again."

"It's not just the hammer," she exclaimed. "He is upset about losing Mjolnir! Everyone knows that! But there is something else! Something much darker that is causing himself to drown in this madness!"

"Nonsense! Whatever that Midgardian told my son was about the hammer and the hammer alone! I will not let my son's confidence be shattered by some silly little whisper!"

"A silly little whisper?" Her voice shook angrily. "A silly little whisper? You think that some _silly little whisper_ has led him to break down. Words are powerful things Odin and I simply cannot believe you'd brush away his torment just like that!"  
***********************************************************************************************************  
Freyja found him alone in the courtyard. He sat next to his axe, which lay at his feet. Around him lay the stuffing from the latest targets which was now in shreds. He was staring at it with a vacant expression. It seemed as if emptiness and rage were the only emotions he felt. 

"Thor," she called to him softly.

He looked up for a moment. She crouched down and held out her hand.

"Oh Thor," she placed her hand in Thor's left one. It was rough and was covered in callouses.

"My son. What grieves you so?" She asked.

He did not say a word.

"Let me help you," she whispered. "I want to help you. Please tell me."

She squeezed his hand. He inched closer to her and leaned his head on her shoulder. He did not speak. He did not move. He did not scream or cry. Freyja was holding back tears as she caressed his head, wishing she could do something. 

When he lifted his head, she cupped it in her hands. Her bright blue eyes stared straight into his'. Her mouth parted:

"My son. Let me protect you. Let me protect all of us."  
************************************************************  
Freyja had come alone. She could not risk being followed. She walked with purpose, with resolve. Her heart started to beat quicker. 

And then she saw it. The hammer. It was still the same as she saw it last. Her hand reached out; she could feel it trembling. Her legs were moving, but it seemed like she was gliding towards the hammer rather than walking. It was if it wanted her to be close. To hold it. Wield it.

She stopped. She was only a few inches away. Her hand clasped the cold handle. It suddenly felt warm and she felt a powerful force pulse from the handle to her hand. She braced herself.

"There must always be a Thor."


End file.
